The Wedding Date Disaster (Harbor City 4)

…

There was only one bed in the guest room at PawPaw’s because of course there was. Thighs jellified, she put her underwear back on and threw on the T-shirt she’d been wearing earlier. For half a second, she worried about the fact that she wasn’t wearing pajama bottoms, but after what had just happened in the bathroom, the time for that was well past.

What in the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t, and that was exactly why when she looked at Will in the mirror and realized that this was what there could have been between them, she’d never regretted anything more in her life. Instead of the sniping and the snarking, they could have…well, they could have at least been friends instead of nearly instant enemies. That thought, though, was immediately shown for the absolute bullshittery it was by Will’s reaction. It was like a switch had been flipped and he’d gone back to being Sir Supreme Dick.

And you thought you could at least be friends with him?

She was totally blaming the post-coital happy hormone rush for that bit of ridiculousness.

So yeah, not having PJ bottoms was pretty far down on the list of shitty things right about now, because she’d just fucked a guy who hated her guts. And she couldn’t stand him, either. He was the worst—unless she took into consideration what he could do when naked. Of course, that was best forgotten.

Pulling back the covers to the guest bed, Hadley made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t be fooled by a fabulous orgasm and abs she had serious regret about not having licked. Will was still the evil twin. He just happened to be one with a fabulous dick.

She closed her eyes and evened out her breathing so when Will walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he didn’t even attempt to talk to her before getting into bed. And the fact that he left a solid foot of open space between them? That was perfect. Abso-fucking-lutely perfect. Touching him again was the last thing she wanted. Once was definitely enough.

Chapter Eleven

Going by her horny subconscious, once was definitely not enough for Hadley. In her dreams last night, it had them doing it everywhere but on horseback while galloping off into the sunset. But when she cracked open her eyes the next morning, she was alone in bed—not that she cared.

Now, the fact that the corner of her pillow was damp because she’d spent the night drooling on it, and probably snoring, did dent up her pride. So her nemesis had seen her naked, made her come in a bathroom, and had been serenaded with the song of her wet-chain-saw snoring. Aaaaaaaaand she was going to get to spend three hours shut up in a car with him on the drive back to the ranch.

Please, God, let PawPaw be in the mood to tell every story he knows…

That would fill up the drive for sure. Hell, that might even get them through dinner. Of course, that left tonight. In the cabin. Alone.

She grabbed Will’s pillow and held it to her face so she could groan into it—only to be hit with the unmistakable scent of sexy, off-limits Evil Twin. A better woman would have tossed the damn thing across the room. She was weak. She took a second and a third inhale. The sound of the bathroom door opening registered two seconds later than it should have.

“Are you smelling my pillow?” Will asked.

She didn’t have to lower the pillow to see the smirk on his face, since there was no missing the self-satisfaction in hi

s voice. As tempting as it was to just go ahead and smother herself with his pillow, she wouldn’t give in and let him win.

She sat up and let the pillow drop. “I was screaming into it.”

While true, it would have sounded more convincing if her voice hadn’t squeaked in the middle of the word “screaming.” Some reactions, however, couldn’t be helped—especially now when it came to seeing Will wearing only a pair of zipped but unbuttoned jeans that were being held up by the patron saint of regrettable sexcapades. There was just something about the bare feet, muscled chest, damp hair, almost-totally-naked combination that gave him a sexy, vulnerable vibe that was her catnip. Obviously her better judgment needed to wake the fuck up because if there was anyone who didn’t fit that bill, it was the Evil Twin himself. They’d only been arguing every time they met for the past year. She knew better than to get fooled by the happy trail that disappeared behind his zipper.

“That was some quiet screaming,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were very quiet in the bathroom last night.”

And there it was, the reminder of what kind of an egomaniacal prick he was. That was why her heartbeat had picked up, her nipples were poking against her cotton T-shirt, and why her gaze kept dropping to his zipper, wondering for how much longer it would hold.

“We’re not talking about that,” she said, her cheeks burning. “Ever.”

“Really?” He thumbed the button of his jeans but didn’t fasten them. “That’s what you’re going with?”

She forced her gaze up past his sinewy chest to his face. “Yes.”

“Ouch. A man of lesser ego would be crushed right about now.” He buttoned his jeans, grabbed his T-shirt from where it lay across the bottom of the bed, and pulled it on. “Seriously, though, we do need to talk, just to get everything out on the table. Last night was fun and all, but it’s not a good idea for it to happen again.”

“Wait. What?” She sat up, her jaw hanging so far open, she coulda caught flies. Who in the hell was he to tell her that? She was the one who was going to tell him that! “You don’t want a repeat?”

He reached over and plucked that black cowboy hat of his off the dresser but didn’t put it on. “I mean, we can both agree that getting naked together isn’t in either of our best interests.”

“What interests are those?” she asked, trying not to get distracted by watching his long fingers on the soft brim of his hat and remembering where they’d been last night.

One of his brows shot up. “Are you saying you want to have sex again?”

Damn it. That’s what she got for getting distracted.